Loki's Endgame

Chapter 65

You stay in Loki's arms, standing in the centre of his royal bedroom for a long time in silence, embracing with soft, quiet tears running down your face.

It was over. You were okay. Everything was going to be okay.

Most importantly, he was okay, and he was with you, in your arms, safe and alive and well.

A tear falls from Loki's eye, landing on your face, causing you to jump a little in surprise. Loki pulls back from you, wiping it away with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Sorry", he mumbles under his breath, a small half-laugh half-sob escaping his lips.

"It's just..."

You place a finger to his lips, stopping him from explaining.

"I know."

Loki kisses the finger covering his lips softly, before rubbing his eye wearily.

"Shall we turn in? I've been wearing armour for nearly five days straight... my shoulders feel on the brink of collapse."

You nod contentedly, "I think we should, and I don't want to wear a gown again for a long time. No offense... not great snow wear..."

You pull your gown straight over your head, too lazy to unlace the ribbons on the front. You take a moment to breathe, not realising how heavy the wintery fabric had been on your body, and how exhausted your muscles were feeling in response. The dress lies untidily on the floor, covered in old, dried blood and gaping with holes from the endless blade cuttings.

It was probably for the best you never wore it again. It didn't bring the nicest of memories flooding back.

Just an awful lot of blood.

You look back up, noticing that Loki has stopped undressing, instead standing with his armour half unclipped, staring at your body as you stand half-naked in the centre of the room, clad only in underwear.

You quickly grab a crop top from your trunk, pulling it over your head with such force it messes your hair completely. Despite everything, it feels comforting to wear normal, human, personal clothing that reminds you of home. You look back over to Loki, who still watches you with a small smile on his lips.

"Can I help you, Odinson?"

He grins at you, tilting his head with a little flirtatious glint in his eye, "Regrettably, not in your condition. Though do not mistake my staring as an advancement, I was simply admiring you without all of the unnecessary Asgardian splendour. I have always much preferred you in your Midgardian attire."

You raise your eyebrows as Loki throws the metal components of his armour lazily onto the chaise at the end of his bed, "Even the sweatpants?"

Loki pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his toned, lean body. He pulls you into him once again, "Especially the sweatpants. You look like a Queen of the heavens in your Asgardian gowns, a Princess of the people, a vision of public love and adoration... but in sweatpants... you're just my girl... and my girl only."

He leans into you, pressing his lips against yours. For a moment, his kisses are gentle and careful, until he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with a small moan of pleasure. You wrap your arms around his neck, enjoying the bliss of the first real kiss you have shared in the living world in five years. Loki's hand grabs your waist, pulling your hips into his as his hands begin exploring your body.

"Ow! Crap Loki that hurt!", you hiss as the stab wounds to your stomach sting. A scab peels off revealing a stream of blood slowly down your stomach.